


Yurin Trouble ♡♪♡♪♡♪

by hannibalbutnotthatone (victorchewitsshouldntdothis)



Category: Doki Doki Literature Club! (Visual Novel)
Genre: F/M, Mutilation, Yandere
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-21
Updated: 2018-02-21
Packaged: 2019-03-22 07:43:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13759455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/victorchewitsshouldntdothis/pseuds/hannibalbutnotthatone
Summary: Yuri seems like such a sweet girl, and she's so pretty, too. Plus, she loves to read, and it feels like a real achievement to bring her out of her shell. Working on the decorations for the festival over at her house will be a real treat. And who knows, maybe something will happen...? She's been getting so close lately, it feels like there's a spark there. Maybe there'll be a connection? Or maybe... something much, much worse? [Smut].





	Yurin Trouble ♡♪♡♪♡♪

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, forgive me for customising the protagonist a bit and giving them some backstory and a name and shit. I find the generic visual novel protagonist type pretty dull. They fill the same role in the story well enough, though.
> 
> You get extra credit if you can spot points where reality has been messed with or where it's obvious that they exist inside a game, which arguably is unnecessary for smut, but I have to live my life.
> 
> Aaand the protagonist's name is a reference to Naked Lunch, 'cause books, enjoy.

The blade neatly sliced to completion, leaving the severed part to fall listlessly to the ground. Yuri placed the knife back down on the floor, smiling faintly at the sign of a job well done. Hannibal stared up at her, fighting against the stunned feeling in his chest. It was true he did not know her well yet, but still, this was a shock. The paper flower she had cut out was so perfectly formed, he had a hard time believing an amateur had made it. Yuri delicately placed the finished decoration to the side, where it would not be damaged, as Hannibal thumbed a lock of blonde hair behind his ear.

 

It was a real surprise how things had developed for him recently. Hannibal N. Lunch had always preferred to stay off people’s radars, so even though the Literature Club appealed to his interests, he would not have expected himself to join. The idea of having to socialise with people every single day was too draining. Unlucky for him, he had been dragged along by a friend to check it out, agreeing thanks to the promise of free food. Maybe he would have agreed faster if he had known about the members. More specifically, if he had known about Yuri.

 

Ignoring the fact that she had a tumbling stream of glossy dark hair to challenge any waterfall, or that she was tall and seamless in her silhouette like a shadow puppet given life, her shy, quiet attitude meant that spending time with her was completely pressureless. In just the short time they had known one another, they had already found a comfortable niche reading together at club meetings, barely needing to exchange a word. He was eternally grateful to her for that. Her presence acted like a human shield which prevented him from having to talk to any of the other club members, even if the president did seem to hover over them occasionally like a melting mayfly. Still, it was nice. He had not expected to find being part of a club so easy.

 

At first, the thought of having to take part in festival preparations had seemed like it was going to ruin the comfy laziness he had established with the Literature Club, but when Yuri mentioned the idea of them working together, he had jumped on it. All they had to do was make some generic decorations and banners, and that was it. Simple stuff. Yuri seemed to be taking it seriously, though, more seriously than he even would have considered possible, based on all the craft supplies she had brought out when he arrived. He was forced to marvel at her crafting skills. She had sliced through the folded paper like a bird cutting through the air on its wings.

 

“So, Yuri…” Hannibal began, clearing his throat loudly enough to get her attention. Yuri looked across at him, her eyes glinting expectantly. She had quite an intense stare, which he was sure was something she would be self-conscious about if she knew what he was thinking, based on everything he knew about her. That was why he tried not to avoid eye contact when he talked to her, which was not his forte.

 

“Hm? What is it?” she asked, as polite as ever. Her tone was always slightly clipped, a habit that only ever broke when she was deeply invested in the topic at hand. And that had only happened a couple of times, when they were talking about books. That seemed to be the only time she really opened up, like the unreality of literature was the only place she felt safe enough to shed her skin. He could understand why.

 

“I’ve never been involved in this kind of festival thing before,” he said. “We won’t have to do too much, right? I don’t want to be centre stage the whole day, or anything.” Yuri giggled slightly to herself, and he had to assume that what he had asked was a stupid question.

 

“No, I’m sure Monika will give us time to rest after her big event is out of the way,” she answered. “Maybe then we– you can enjoy the festival. We can both enjoy it.” She had stumbled in the middle of the sentence there, and Hannibal watched as she clutched a hand shyly over her chest and looked the other way in distraction. A smirk teased at the corner of his mouth.

 

“Maybe we can…” he agreed. Yuri hastily went back to occupying herself with work, picking up another fresh sheet of paper to begin turning into a flower. Hannibal watched her for a moment, distracted by the elegant movements of her fingers, before remembering where he was. “At least you’ll get to share your poem with people. I know everyone’s going to like it.” Yuri chewed her smile and pulled her chin against her chest, letting her hair shield her face from sight. It was hard to compliment her, even if she seemed to like it on some level. Hannibal knew that by now. He had been trying hard enough to get through to her, after all.

 

“I hope they do…” Yuri said softly, from underneath her curtain of hair. “I’m proud of the one I’m going to read. If people like it, I… it’ll be like I’m connecting with them.” Suddenly, like a string had been pulled, she looked up. Her eyes were stretched wide, almost fearfully. “Of course… people will probably think it’s weird. That’s what everyone normally thinks of my writing, which is why… why I… don’t like to share it.” Her head drooped down again, chin on her chest, and her shoulders sagged. The sudden change struck a nerve with Hannibal. It was a little sad to see her excitement melt so quickly at the thought of being rejected. He reached out and patted her hand, pulling away quickly, knowing it would be awkward for them both if he lingered too long.

 

“They will like it,” he assured her. “With your talent? How can they not?” The words had a sudden and obvious affect on Yuri, and Hannibal watched her play weakly with her hair for a few moments before she could begin to think about responding. He did not wait. He saw his way in and he took it. Taking care not to be too obvious about it, he leant in closer, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial drawl. “You have a very pretty voice, anyway,” he said. “Your accent, I suppose. Whatever you say will sound great.”

 

“I don’t… I’m not sure you’re right…” Yuri laughed nervously to herself. Her cheeks had turned pink, and Hannibal could not fight off the wry smile that cracked his lips at the sight. “Yours, er, that is… I like how you talk. It’s different.” Unsurprisingly, he thought, cocking his eyebrow. Before he had been uprooted and brought here, he had worked hard to learn Japanese. Fortunately, he had a way with language, and had picked up a decent level of fluency before stepping off the plane. Living here and talking to people everyday had made it a lot easier. But still, no matter how well things stuck in his head, there was no way anyone would believe it was his first language. Even if the blonde hair and blue eyes did not already provide a pretty big hint about that.

 

“Not bad, I hope,” he said. Yuri immediately shook her head, quick to reassure him that she had not meant any offense.

 

“No… I… no, I like it.” She smiled. “It makes the way you use language feel unique. I notice it in your poems a lot.” She fumbled a long lock of hair out of the way, but it swung back into place almost at once. “It’s… part of why I enjoy them. The word choices always surprise me. It makes me wonder… ah… what your English writing is like.” Hannibal snorted under his breath.

 

“I don’t write poems in English,” he said. “I pretty much just started doing them for this club. To make… everyone happy. Sorry. I don’t really have anything to show you.” Yuri nodded, but her hung head made her seem slightly disappointed. That, or she was still suffering from displaying emotion a moment ago. She was not much for being open with her feelings.

 

“Well, I wouldn’t really be able to appreciate them anyway, I suppose,” she mumbled, and went to pick up the knife to continue forming her decorations. The two of them had not got much done, but it was still early in the day. They had time. More time than they needed to shape a few paper flowers. Hannibal was still leaning in close enough for comfort, and Yuri had not stopped him. She had not even backed away, and yet he was practically breathing her air.

 

From here, Hannibal could make out the individual lashes that framed her deep, dark eyes. He could see the flush creeping over her skin, bit by bit, and watched the slight shiver of her bottom lip as she concentrated. He was so busy picking out the individual parts of her face, dissecting it with his gaze, that he did not notice when Yuri looked directly at him. She had to cough slightly before he did, and the sharp yank backwards he forced on himself almost made him topple off his knees. He cleared his throat with a thick, dry sound, and rubbed the back of his neck, without looking up.

 

“It’s… okay,” Yuri breathed. Her lip twitched, shaking her chin along with it. When Hannibal looked back at her, she was staring, making steady eye contact with him. She looked like a doll when she did that. Not necessarily in a good way. It was more like turning around and seeing a mannequin watching you, and feeling suddenly paranoid that it could actually see what you were doing. That was unfair of him. He knew she was just awkward because she did not socialise much. Still, there was that lingering feeling of discomfort. Yuri looked like she wanted to keep talking, but she kept getting stuck. Her words would not come out, like she was a recording that had run out of tape without warning.

 

“I didn’t mean to be creepy,” he said, doing his best to apologise after the fact, even if it was too late to matter. Fortunately enough for him, Yuri seemed to brighten at the sound of his voice. She clasped her hands together in front of her chest, and carried on her fixed, unending stare.

 

“You weren’t!” she insisted. “No, I… I know sometimes I do the same thing, so… um.” She stopped herself, once again clearly wanting to say more, but second-guessing herself too much to let it out. Hannibal’s mouth curled up in a half-smile along one side of his face. She clearly had no idea how cute she was when she acted like this. Everything she said about herself made it clear that she thought people found her weird, so he doubted anyone had told her before. He liked her mannerisms. Even if they had not turned out to have similar literary tastes, he probably would have gravitated towards her just for that reason.

 

“Then we’re both a couple of creeps…” he said, teasingly, and shifted forward again. Yuri’s mouth fell open and she waited, nervously anticipating what they both knew was coming next. Hannibal went in for a kiss, and Yuri met him eagerly in the middle. Her haste caused them to bump noses before their lips met, but once they connected, it felt natural. He made sure to stop himself for a moment after that initial kiss, but Yuri did not let him pull away, and, reassured, he did not want to stop, either. He had been hoping this would happen since they met. Spent a lot of slow moments in class and the clubroom thinking about it. Yuri’s lip-gloss tasted like apple, which was a surprise, and he could faintly smell the floral scent of her shampoo. At the thought, he reached out to touch her hair, hoping that he was stroking it and not pawing at her. If he was, Yuri gave no indication that she minded. She held onto his shoulders tightly, digging her nails in to steady herself.

 

As their kissing grew more heated, and Hannibal felt Yuri leaning backwards, he made sure to hold tight around her back, and not to drop her. If she went down, she was clinging tightly enough that he was going down with her, and he did not especially want to bang his head on anything. They had agreed to meet over at Yuri’s house for this project, after he explained that he had no room to host anyone where he lived. She had been reluctant at first, but had seemed happy enough ever since he had arrived. Her room was immaculate, so he had no idea why she would have worried. Still, he could not help but notice that there were sharp corners all around them, and the last thing he wanted was for this moment to be cut short by his own stupidity. That would be such a waste of good potential.

 

“Hey… hey,” he murmured, pulling away for a moment. Yuri let out a weak, low hiss of disappointment at the sudden break from kissing, tensing her fingers and frowning. “Is this okay? Your parents aren’t going to walk in, right?” Yuri shook her head.

 

“No, they’re not really around,” she answered. He had to admit, he had seen no sign of anyone else in the house when he came in earlier.

 

“Oh yeah?” he asked, with a quick sardonic flash of teeth. “Neither are mine, but then they’re dead, so… yours aren’t…?” Now it was _his_ lack of social practice that was showing. What a stupid question to ask, or even half-ask, in the middle of what he was hoping was going to turn into foreplay.

 

“They’re…” Yuri began, but her forehead creased in thought. “I can’t rem– I don’t kn– I don’t want to talk about it right now.” While that was a reasonable enough thing to say, Hannibal did not miss the unusual way she had struggled to answer at first. Almost as if she did not know the answer, which was all but impossible. Still, this was not the moment. He suppressed the slight unsettled feeling her answer had given him, and moved on. Why would he focus on something irrational like that when he had a beautiful girl in his arms?

 

Hannibal brushed aside their crafting supplies, taking special care to make sure the knife Yuri had been using was out of the way. It was stupidly sharp, and he would hate for her to cut herself on it when they were in the moment. With the floor clear, he let Yuri slide down onto her back, and settled back into kissing her. She clung greedily to him, planting her hands on his face. No escape now, he thought, a jolt of excitement shooting through his stomach.

 

Feeling confident, Hannibal slid his hand up over Yuri’s side and squeezed her chest. She pushed back into his hand, and, inspired, he searched for the hem and moved under her sweater. He felt the shape of her tit fill his hand and let out a slight, heavier breath just at the idea of what he was doing. Yuri, clearly impatient, grabbed his arm and yanked his hand out from under her clothes, placing it instead over her thigh. He took the hint. It would be hard not to. Certain gestures formed an international language.

 

“This is new,” Hannibal laughed under his breath, putting on a teasing smile. “None of the other girls I’ve been with have ever wanted to take control like that.” Yuri did not find it funny. In a rare break from what he saw as their usual synchronicity, she fixed him with a stern look.

 

“That was a joke, right?” she asked, staring needily up at him. Even with what she was saying, he found himself paying more attention to the way her dark hair framed her face. It was all laid out like twisting ribbons on the floor, except where it stuck to her warm skin, making for a pattern of contrasting colours.

 

“Yeah, sure, sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to tease you.” It had not been entirely true, either. While he usually found himself ending up with submissive girls, there had been the odd force of nature mixed in. He could probably still point out exactly where the love bites had been. Some of them had really packed a punch. That was something else he did not need to be thinking about right now. Back in the moment. Back in the moment…

 

Continuing from where Yuri had left him, Hannibal ran his hand along her thigh, smoothing over the material of her trousers. He was warm all over now, and eternally thankful that she had made it so clear what she wanted. He wanted it, too, and he did not intend to wait. Yuri was impatient, going as far as holding her breath, as he unfastened her trousers and snaked them down her waist. She was watching his every movement, and he could no longer handle meeting her gaze. Not while he was trying to focus, nor while it was so intense a stare. His fingers crept their way inside her underwear, and he ran the thumb over her clit, pleased to feel her squirm appreciatively in response. Once the first contact seal was broken, everything became much easier. In just a couple of moments, he felt cocky enough to slide his index finger into her, and was surprised by what he felt.

 

“You’re really wet…” he breathed, looking up at her face. Yuri’s eyes darted sideways.

 

“I… I know,” she breathed back. After an uncomfortable second of silence, Hannibal decided he did not know what he had been expecting, but he was hardly going to fight her on this. He was just pleased to see she was so interested already. Normally, girls did not seem as invested as guys were, at least in his experience. Yuri must be the exception. Maybe it was part of her coming out of her shell. He put in another finger for good measure and pumped, curling them back and forth to experiment. Yuri seemed to like everything he did. Whether she was just easy to please, or trying to make him happy, he could not tell.

 

After a few minutes, Hannibal realised that he was essentially doing nothing for her. Yuri was as ready as she was going to get, and he was wasting time extending foreplay past the point of usefulness. The whole point was that it was meant to lead towards something better. He withdrew his fingers, and quickly began pulling his shirt up over his head without bothering about the buttons. Which would have been better if it did not get stuck. He could hear Yuri giggling as he freed himself, but tried not to let it wound his pride. At least she stopped when he unzipped the front of his trousers.

 

“We’re going to fuck,” he said thickly. It did feel fast, even to him. In truth, they barely knew each other, but he was not one to back away from something that was going well. So long as Yuri wanted to, and he would not blame her at all if she had not wanted things to get this far, but –

 

“Yes! Right now, I can’t wait!” That was not the response he had been expecting, but he was happy to hear it. The shy façade had melted clean away. Yuri was grinning up at him, really showing off her teeth, and he realised that this reaction was hardly shocking. When she set her mind to something, she did seem to get obsessed for a while. Like pushing him to read a book with her, that she had picked out especially. She had nudged him incessantly, always wanting to find out how far through he was, everyday before they read more together. This was just who she was.

 

“Hold on,” Hannibal breathed. “I think I have something in my wallet.” He dug a hand into the pocket of his trousers, managing to loosen them in the process, but triumphantly brandishing his wallet in the end. Inside, next to some old, tattered train tickets and barely enough money for a single vending machine assisted lunch, was the little plastic square he needed. He took out the condom, and unwrapped it, accompanied by the background noise of Yuri’s heavy breathing. He freed himself from the last lingering hold of his trousers, and yanked down his underwear, exposing himself. He knew Yuri was staring at him as he rolled the condom over his cock. It did make him feel like he was giving some kind of performance, like he was under the spotlight, but he could hardly blame her for looking. He would have done, in her position. Yuri let out a small, expectant whimper that made him shiver. He leant over her, getting into place. Showtime, he supposed. Time to see if he could impress her with more than his amateur poetry skills.

 

Hannibal slid into Yuri and gave his cock a quick, experimental pump. She moaned politely, probably for his benefit, and wrapped her legs around him so that he was held firmly in place. Not that she needed to, as if he was planning on going anywhere. Now that he was inside her, he let himself start to grin. He was feeling secure in the situation, and that always made him cockier. Any attempts to be gentle and considerate for Yuri’s sake quickly went out the window when he realised she was just as eager as he was. The way she squeezed her thighs around him, indelicately scratched and stabbed her nails against his back, and the light, hungry pants coming from her mouth all painted a clear picture. She wanted it. She wanted him. He would be a fool not to oblige that kind of need.

 

It was easy for him to get in fairly deep fairly quickly, and he took advantage of the opportunity. As if he could fight it. Yuri was insistent. She squeezed him tight with everything she had below the waist, and, shockingly, the way her legs tightened around his hips was not the greatest driving force. He found himself panting, not as needily as she was, but enough to surprise himself. He had to admit that he was invested in this, in her, more than what was normal for him. Maybe they really did have a connection that extended beyond a similar taste in books.

 

“You’re mine…” Yuri whispered, next to his ear, and he let out a gasp of hot breath in reply. “Tell me that you are. Only mine.”

 

“Only yours, Yuri,” Hannibal said hastily, not wanting to get distracted. He was close, and he wanted to sink into the feeling. Enjoy himself. You really never knew if you were going to get a second shot with someone, a fact he had learnt a few times over by now, so he liked to enjoy the first one for all it was worth. Yuri murmured in his ear, but he was too focused to listen to what she was saying, if it was even words. She was probably just as lost in the moment as he was. He finished roughly and sighed sharply in her face, catching her eyes and the disconcerting intensity of her stare at the same time. He let his cock empty out inside of her while he panted for breath. Yuri whined, arching her back in a way that brought them very close together, and smiled widely. She certainly seemed happy with herself.

 

Hannibal eased himself out with a muted hiss, and was immediately pulled back in close to her for a kiss. He let Yuri paw at him and kiss him for a few seconds, before separating again. He always needed a moment to himself after sex.

 

“Give me a second,” he said. Her face fell, but he made it clear he was just excusing himself to the bathroom. When he returned a few minutes later, rubbing his hands together to dry them off, he saw that Yuri had redressed herself. She was prodding at a spot on the floor, between her legs. When he sat down next to her, he noticed some spots of blood. The target of her curiosity.

 

“Oh, you’re back!” Yuri cried out, as if he had been off at war for the past three years. She wrapped her arms around him and hugged him tightly, and he had no real choice but to laugh it off, as his chest tightened uncomfortably.

 

“Yeah, obviously,” he muttered. “What are you looking at?”

 

“Mm. It’s blood,” she explained unnecessarily, daring to touch the spots directly.

 

“Did you cut yourself?” Hannibal asked. He had thought the knives they had been working with before their little foray into distraction began had been out of the way. Yuri shook her head, amused by his question, based on her expression. She was certainly smiling more than usual now that they were done.

 

“No, of course not! It’s from what we did. It’s normal.” She said it so matter-of-factly. He would have thought a girl as shy and withdrawn as Yuri would be less open about sex. Maybe this was where all her confidence ended up. He had better make certain not to drain her reserves completely.

 

“Well, yeah, if you’re a virgin, I guess,” Hannibal muttered, mostly to himself. His brain was already turning off for the time being, and he wanted to relax. Yuri made a slight half-scoff, half-laugh in response to his comment.

 

“Of course I was…” she said, again, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “And you were too, right? You said it, that you were only mine.” A sudden flash of uncertainty crossed her face. “Right?” Hannibal grimaced, the corner of his mouth twisting upwards as he squirmed in place. This was too difficult a conversation to have when he honestly just wanted to fall asleep, but he supposed it was happening whether he liked it or not.

 

“Er… no,” he said meekly. “I mean, I don’t have a girlfriend or anything right now, but… I have had sex with people before. I kind of assumed you would have, too. We didn’t talk about it.” And you sort of rushed me, he did not add. We barely know each other. If this was what she wanted, it was fine by him, but he was not going to blame himself for making assumptions. Yuri froze and fixed him with a pair of hollow eyes that made him tense up immediately. He had had no idea her face could even make that kind of expression.

 

“How could you think that?” she hissed darkly. “I thought… we were making something special. Who else? Who else was there? How many? Are they girls that I know?”

 

“Woah, come on, seriously?” Hannibal felt like he needed to defend himself all of a sudden, which was not how he wanted to feel, and not a thing he thought he should have to feel, either. He had done nothing wrong. If it bothered her, she should have asked. “Look, it’s the past. Things happen. I don’t know what to tell you.” This was clearly not the right response. Yuri stared at him with that terrible, fixed expression for several long seconds. Her pupils seemed to have all but disappeared, which was jarring, to say the least. Hannibal was just beginning to think of how to excuse himself, when, suddenly, Yuri lunged at him. It was too quick for him to retaliate. She grabbed a thick, hardcover book from nearby and cracked it against the side of his head. He crumpled into a pile, his eyes twitching between open and closed, flashes of consciousness interrupting the sudden darkness that tried to pull him in.

 

His head was swimming so thickly that he could not tell whether he actually passed out or not. It was only a couple of moments – minutes or seconds, he could not be sure – later that he came out of it, his head stinging painfully, to find himself laid out flat on his back. Yuri was just finishing tying his hands above his head with what he realised after a few hazy seconds was her school uniform tie, knotted absurdly tight. What was she, a sailor? He tried to pull his wrists free, to no avail. They were looped around the foot of her heavy wooden wardrobe, and not budging. Yuri sat on his legs, looking coldly down at him, and he found that the one thought that would not leave his head was how much he wished that he had bothered to get dressed again before this happened. Being vulnerable was bad enough. Naked and vulnerable was just embarrassing.

 

“Yuri, I…”

 

“Don’t even start!” she hissed. Her eyes darted sharply about in her face, and her lip shivered in a way that would normally make him think she was about to start crying. Not this time, however. The expression occasionally cracked into a manic grin, and he could practically hear how hard her heart was beating. She leant in close to him, and he could feel her shaky breath on his cheeks. “I was wrong about you. I thought I was special to you, but I’m not!”

 

“That’s not… I mean, you haven’t given me a _chance_ to –” Her hand slammed down hard over his mouth, and he had little choice but to shut up. Yuri’s grin twitched with animation as she tensed her fingers around his jaw. Apparently, she was done listening.

 

“Men are all the same…” she breathed. “No, that’s wrong. _Everyone’s_ the same. Everyone overlooks me, all the time. I just fade into the background next to warmer people… like Monika.” Her mouth twitched and her eyes narrowed. “Is that it? Is Monika the one?” She let her grip on his mouth slip enough for him to answer, but he knew that as soon as he said something she did not like, her hand was going to be right back where it had been.

 

“Is she the what?” Hannibal asked desperately. “I… I don’t care about Monika!” He had barely even talked to her, beyond some basic pleasantries. Yuri let out a sharp gasp and shook suddenly, which was weird. Surely that was what she had wanted to hear. Both her hands went to her head and she shook it fiercely, eyes screwed shut, for a few seconds, before finally coming out of it. When she opened her eyes again, the spark was gone. Clearly, whatever had just gone through her head, he was not going to like it. He reflexively twitched, anticipating the worst.

 

“The only reason I let you get this close to me, is because I thought you were different,” Yuri said. “But… you’re not. Not at all.” Hannibal could tell she wanted him to think she sounded sad. It was like she was playing for sympathy, but it was hard to see things that way when her ragged, frantic breathing and wild heartbeat warped every word that came out of her mouth. “I thought, reading your poems, that there was something special about you. I thought you’d understand me… but it was all an act.” He started to mumble an apology, only to have Yuri’s hand squeezing his lips shut again a split second later. He let himself go limp. There was no point.

 

Yuri sighed roughly, and almost choked herself on the intake breath. It was fairly obvious that she was panicking, but Hannibal did not hold out a lot of hope for his situation. Sure, it was possible that she had realised what she was doing, regretting it, and was about to untie his hands and let him go home, but he doubted that. His suspicions were confirmed when Yuri snatched out with her free hand, grabbing and then brandishing the knife he had so carefully left lying there, right in his face. His eyes widened, and he struggled, but Yuri was taller than him, and already had him pinned in place. The heavy piece of furniture his arms were attached to gave no indication that it was willing to shift, either. He was stuck. The muffled whines he was able to sneak through her fingers did nothing to convince her to relax, either.

 

“I collect knives. Did I tell you that?” Yuri whispered darkly. “I’m sure I did. It’s a weird hobby. I know most people think it’s weird. You at least understand why, though, right? They’re pretty…” Her glance travelled briefly to the glinting tip of the knife in her hand, then snapped back to him. Between the dead expression on her face and the blade in her hand, Hannibal did not have anywhere comfortable to look. He let out another barely audible whine, hoping and not believing that she was just trying to scare him. “But knives are very dangerous,” Yuri went on, savouring her words. “Especially mine. I like to keep them sharp, otherwise it feels like I’m disrespecting them. Do you know what I mean?” She did not move her hand, so he had to assume she was not expecting a response. “Anyway…” Yuri gently brushed his jawline with the wide side of the knife. He shivered on instinct, but nothing happened. He had a sinking feeling that, when she wanted something to happen, it would. There were not going to be any mistakes.

 

“Ymmph…” Hannibal managed, which was not quite as convincing an appeal as he would have hoped. Yuri had a faraway look in her eyes, as if the girl he had spent his afternoons with reading had gone out for coffee. Or tea, he guessed. Either way, there was no trace of that Yuri left. Even if he could talk, he had no idea if it would have got through to her.

 

“I don’t think I could bear to see you with someone else…” Yuri breathed. Her shoulders still occasionally shuddered, signs of whatever inner struggle she was fighting, but she was making an effort to sound composed, now. Like she was performing for him. But this was real, not one of her poems. Did she still remember the difference? “I _couldn’t_ bear it,” she repeated shakily. “I can’t let that happen.” Hannibal’s heart was pounding in his chest, like it, too, realised the severity of the situation and was hoping to break out and make a run for it. “How can I stop you from hurting me that badly, Hannibal…?” He thought it was rhetorical, but she loosened her hand, and freed his mouth, planting her palm firmly on his chest instead.

 

“I… I won’t!” he said, stammering in his haste. “No, I… I don’t w-want anyone else! Just you. Just you, okay?!” Yuri smiled, almost showing a hint of her usual slight, sweet face, but it never reached her eyes, and the whole expression quickly fell through.

 

“No… it’s not true. You can’t play with my emotions like that, it’s too late for me to believe you.” Yuri twisted the knife in the air, so close to his nose that he swore he felt it. He let out a weak yelp. “Maybe… Girls are shallow, aren’t they?” Yuri breathed thickly. “If I wanted… I could make it so none of them would ever want to look at you again…” A bubbling, choked laugh escaped her throat, and Hannibal groaned. He tugged at the tie binding his wrists again, but nothing happened, he had no chance of getting out. He tried to kick, or move his legs in any way at all, but Yuri was planted firmly on top of them. All he really got out of it was an untimely shiver from the close pressure of her thighs and body on top of his. As if his lower brain had not already got him into enough trouble.

 

“Yuri, can we talk about this more?” he moaned weakly. No hope. Yuri brought the knife in close, painstakingly careful in how she handled it, just as she had been when making the decorations earlier. She slit his cheek, and he cried out at the sudden sharp sting of his broken skin. The nick was thin and shallow, like a papercut. It hurt more than it had any right to. Yuri thumbed the blood from the wound and licked it off, grinning for her own benefit at the taste.

 

“That would work, wouldn’t it…?” she breathed. “But… maybe I’m shallow, too. I don’t want to see your face get ruined.” Hannibal’s eye twitched. Maybe she really _was_ just trying to scare him. Well, she was going a bit too fucking far, if that was the case. He was pretty sure the memory of this was going to make their afterschool conversations in the clubroom pretty stilted.

 

In an act of mercy that made Hannibal’s heart jump, Yuri put the knife down on the floor. Both her hands went instead to rest on his chest, before she began exploring, tracing his ribs and stomach with her wandering fingers. In a more normal situation, it would have been a win. Sadly, he was no longer really in the mood.

 

“If only I had been as important to you as you were to me,” Yuri said, shivering. Not just her voice, but her whole body was twitching, like she was full of bugs. “But how can I know you won’t just find someone else now? You won’t… you won’t want me after this. I showed you too much of who I am. No-one likes me after I do that. And you… You can find someone else…” Hannibal breathed in heavily. This could be his chance, maybe, just maybe, to get out.

 

“There won’t be,” he said, trying his best to sound convincing. “I still like you, Yuri. We’re… we understand each other, don’t we? I thought we had a connection…” Her eyes lit up, and he felt her legs tighten around his thighs. He even managed a weak, quivering smile in response. “It’s just you, Yuri,” he added, hoping to sweeten it. Yuri grabbed him hard around the ribcage and stuck her neck out, chin forward, looking him dead in the eye.

 

“Do you mean it? Do you _promise_ me that you mean it?” she asked. Frantically, he nodded, grinning feverishly up at her. If she bought this, he was finally safe. He might have to flee the country, but he was safe for the night, at least.

 

“I promise there won’t be anyone else,” he said, stressing it as much as possible. “Just you.” Yuri gave off a high cry of delight, and gripped him, suddenly, around the cock. His hips jolted on reflex, but she immediately began to pump him. He was still tired, and not particularly invested, but if she wanted to celebrate, he would let her. It was better than her previous plan on how to spend the afternoon.

 

“I’m so happy you mean that…!” she breathed. Hannibal nodded, the smile on his face starting to hurt from the strain of pretending.

 

“Yeah, like I said. You’re all I want. Ah! That… feels good, Yuri.” Fingernails. Next time, he had to remember to avoid girls with sharp fingernails. After a few minutes, Yuri let go of him. He felt fairly exposed still, lying helplessly on her floor, arms tied, and his cock half erect in front of her. Maybe that was unreasonable, considering the day’s events, and everything else that had happened between them, but he would still prefer to be comfortably clothed and able to use his hands again before he made any kind of decision about how he felt.

 

“I just need one last thing,” Yuri said softly. She was sucking in small breaths, panting, and her face was pink. Her whole body was tense where it touched him.

 

“Whatever you need,” Hannibal answered. He was so close, he could feel it. Almost free.

 

“Prove it,” Yuri breathed. In a sudden movement, jerking her arm so quickly that he barely saw it happen, she went for the knife again. Then, in the next second, she brought it swiftly against his cock and sliced neatly through it, severing it and letting it fall listlessly away. The choked hybrid between a sob and a scream that came out of him arrived at the same time as the pain, throbbing and alien, and somewhere he could never have imagined it. He struggled to move, though he was working on instinct, and could not tell if he was trying to escape from Yuri or the pain. Blood pumped out and over him, warm and wet, and very unwelcome.

 

“Wh–! Whaah… What did y…?!” Words were beyond him. He spat them out in amongst an unconscious stream of cries and screams, but none of it was real. Tears were leaking down his cheeks in thick trails. The pain was impossible. And she was just sitting there, watching him, with the knife still in her hand. How was he supposed to process any of it?

 

After what he was sure had to be an hour, but which, realistically, was only about six seconds, Yuri reached for a cloth to staunch the blood. It was soaked red in moments, and Hannibal was regaining just enough of his mind to start worrying that he might bleed out. And what an ending that would be, if he did.

 

“Hospital…! Take – I need to go to a hospital!” he shouted, jerky fragments that he hoped were getting through to her. Yuri put the knife down delicately on the ground, next to the lump of meat that had very recently been attached to his body.

 

“If I take you to the hospital, I’ll get in trouble,” she said. How rational, he thought. A little late for those kinds of thoughts. If he had not been panicking so badly, he would be angry. But he only had so much energy. “You said you want to be with me. I know you don’t want me to get in trouble, do you?” Hannibal snorted sharply through his nose, trying to swallow the lump of snot in his throat.

 

“No, I don’t want you to get in trouble,” he answered. “But I’ll die. I might die. There’s so much blood…!” Just thinking about it made him whimper. Yuri shook her head slightly, and while he hated to think it, she seemed to find his reaction funny.

 

“Not _that_ much,” she said. “You’ll survive, Hannibal. But… I can fix it for you. I know how to stop it bleeding, I promise. I have experience.” That was so reassuring. “You’re my boyfriend now… oh, I hope you don’t mind me using that word, but it just felt right!” She _was_ amused, he decided. No, if not that exactly, she was enjoying herself. Happy. That was it. She was actually happy, as if this was the warm conclusion to some little love drama. In her eyes, maybe it was. “What I mean,” she laughed awkwardly. “Is that I’ll look after you. That’s my responsibility, now, and yours… yours is to not hurt me again. I’m sure that’ll be a lot easier now, right?”

 

“Y… yeah. Yes, Yuri. I… I bet.” He was pretty sure he was about to pass out again from the pain, anyway. Maybe if he was lucky, he would not wake up again. That would put an end to this, at least. Yuri kissed him quickly on the cheek, and hopped up, off to find whatever she needed to fix her makeshift solution to keeping their blossoming relationship secure. He hoped she was as good as her word about fixing it, at least. His head was fuzzy and his eyelids were heavy, so he let them close, ready to swim in the blackout for a while. He should really try and save some of his energy. He suspected he was going to need it to deal with what happened next. As he began to slip out of consciousness, he could hear Yuri humming happily to herself. She moved around the room, gathering supplies like they were going to pick up where they left off with the decorations. She was practically back to her old self already. All that told him was that the Yuri he had seen today was barely removed from the one he had spent time with in the Literature Club. He should have seen this coming.

 

Damn. After all that time playing with word meanings, and their close readings together, he really should have got better at noticing when the writing was on the wall.


End file.
